


Interlude: A Dance

by monobuu



Series: The Hunt [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Dancing, Faeries - Freeform, Genderbending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 10:56:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7434072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monobuu/pseuds/monobuu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur is ecstatic to have Alfred back, but he will soon learn that outside the Hunt, the fae can be a very different person.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interlude: A Dance

The hall was brightly lit and colorfully decorated with banners, trails of ribbon and multicolored fabric, sparkling crystal chandeliers and lights, flickering rapidly over the soft tones of lace and frills. Many of the ladies twirled gracefully on the dance floor, led sedately by gentlemen dressed smartly in darker tones, although others stood in groups around the edges, whispering and giggling about those matters at court that were most scandalous. Still others could be found outside in the gardens, enjoying the flowers, or in the parlor speaking of more serious matters with those they only saw at social gatherings. They were all dressed in the most recent fashions of the city, with jewels sparkling about their necks and wrists, and fans of brightly colored feathers in their hands.  
  
The music floated throughout the spacious hall and down the corridors of the Kirkland country manor, the hired musicians playing almost constantly for the enjoyment of the elite families in attendance. When there were lulls, the various conversations and gossiping voices of those not dancing were more than enough to take up the silence. And since Arthur Kirkland's knowledge and involvement in court matters was limited to who he should bow to and who it would be best not to offend, he wasn't exactly sought after for the newest bits of gossip.  
  
Which was perfectly fine, as far as he was concerned. It gave him the opportunity to enjoy Alfred's company without having to worry about anyone else. As long as Francis stayed away, that is.  
  
“The world is full of fae, Arthur,” Alfred said softly, hand gesturing in a wide arch, indicating the dance hall in its entirety and, beyond, everything else. They sat in the slight shadow of a colonnade, on two plush chairs pushed close together. “They are all around us,” he murmured, smiling softly.  
  
“I have fae friends in the city,” Arthur said in return. “Small friends who like to keep me company.”  
  
“But I'm the first higher fae you've seen,” Alfred said, voice lilting to turn it into a question as he leaned in close. Arthur nodded and Alfred grinned, throwing an arm over Arthur's shoulder and pulling him in close.  
  
“There are more around you than you may think,” Alfred said quietly, giving Arthur an amused look before turning his gaze on the people surrounding them. “And not all of them fae.”  
  
Arthur frowned, but didn't say anything.  
  
“Do you see that elegant lady in blue,” Alfred asked, “with the pearls about her neck in two loops?”  
  
“Lady Davenport,” Arthur said, raising an eyebrow in question.  
  
Alfred chuckled deeply. “Yes, Davenport. She is a dryad.”  
  
Arthur frowned, looking more closely at the Lady Davenport as the man she was with spun her around the dance floor. Her skirts twirled about her legs, her long, slim arms open in lighthearted embellishment as her light brown hair flew about her head. Her face was smiling, her expression open, and her deep green eyes flashed with a startling clarity in the shine of the chandeliers.  
  
Arthur turned back to Alfred in slight wonder and Alfred nodded knowingly, eyes searching the crowd once more. “And that slinky looking gentleman in grey pinstripes,” he said, eyes narrowing. “The one entertaining those two young ladies.”  
  
Arthur turned once again, squinting. “Lord Hanning?”  
  
Alfred hummed in displeasure and Arthur glanced at him. “Stay away from him,” Alfred said lowly, turning to scan the crowd once more. “And anyone he associates with.”  
  
Arthur was going to ask why, when Alfred let out an abrupt chuckle. “That child over there, the boy with the wild hair, he's definitely...” Alfred trailed off, eyebrows lowering in a frown as his expression lost its amusement.  
  
Arthur watched as a woman came to the child and wrapped her arms around him. Her dress was simple in cut, though heavily adorned with frills and jewels, neither managing to brighten the odd blue-grey color of the material. Arthur turned his gaze to her face and was startled to realize that she was staring at Alfred with frightening intensity.   
  
“Do you know her?” Arthur whispered, unable to look away until Alfred's answer drew his gaze.  
  
“No,” the fae said, shaking his head. Arthur glanced back to see the woman had disappeared along with the child.   
  
“She is a selkie,” Alfred said lowly and Arthur could tell that Alfred was unhappy with the discovery, though he knew not why. “Taken and kept far from her home against her will.”  
  
Arthur blinked, reaching out a hand to touch Alfred's arm, gaining the fae's attention. “Can you help her?” he asked.  
  
Alfred shook his head sadly. “No, but hopefully her son is up to the task.”  
  
Arthur frowned slightly, but did not push the matter. “How can there be so many fae around without anyone noticing?”  
  
Alfred grinned and sat back, relaxing. “Humans tend to believe themselves very perceptive creatures and yet, when they don't want to believe in something, they're amazing at just ignoring it altogether. On top of that, those of the Nevernever that choose to live among humans are very good at blending in.” Alfred glanced at Arthur and his expression turned serious. “Those who aren't don't last too long.”  
  
Arthur thought about this for a moment. “But to go completely unnoticed? What about those creatures who don't look human?” he asked, thinking of the ones they'd hunted on the night they'd met or the small fairies that visited him in the city. Although the latter were much less traumatizing than the former, there was no way they could pass as a normal person, not when they were six inches high. “What if someone sees one of them?”  
  
“Arthur,” Alfred said, mouth quirking. “The mind isn't exactly a logical place, not really. If someone's faced with something malicious or terrifying, or even something that's not necessarily dangerous looking but nonetheless _weird_ , most people will conveniently forget it happened, rather than face the truth of what it might mean.” The fae shrugged. “I'm not saying it's a bad thing that nobody notices or that _everybody_ is left in the dark. It's just the balance; most humans are unaware of us, and we don't really do much to bring attention to ourselves.”*  
  
“It's a lot to wrap my head around,” Arthur murmured, mind going through a mental list of people who could very well be some sort of mythical creature. It was a lot to take in, suddenly being made aware that the supernatural was all around him, not just in his own little room in the city but everywhere he went. He wondered briefly how many people he'd encountered who were actually some sort of supernatural creature.  
  
Alfred chuckled and stood, offering his hand to Arthur. “Well, that's enough talk, then. Care for a dance?”  
  
Arthur took his hand and stood slowly, glancing around. “I don't know about your faerie court, Alfred, but it isn't exactly normal for two men to dance together in this one.”  
  
“Not a problem, _leannan_ ,” Alfred said easily.   
  
Then he twirled Arthur around, guiding Arthur with his hand on his waist so that Arthur had to step out into a flourish of movement at the end of the turn. Arthur could feel a tingling sensation running over his arms and a ghost of a touch against his legs, as if something brushed against them, not quite substantial enough to register on his senses for more than a brief moment. He stared at Alfred's grinning face and frowned as the man moved, allowing Arthur's gaze to go past the fae and land on one of the many windows that lined the room they were in. The night had grown dark enough that the bright lights from within allowed the window to function as a mirror and Arthur could clearly see his reflection.  
  
The Englishman gaped.  
  
The person who stared back at him through the darkened glass was not who he expected to see. Arthur _expected_ to see a sharply dressed young man with sandy blond hair just wild enough to refuse neatness. What he saw instead was a slim young woman, long hair parted on the side so that her bangs went one way, curving down and around her face, while the rest was gathered in a loose knot on the other side, left to cascade down over her shoulder. She wore glasses perched on her small nose, the color of the frames matching the rosy hue of her dress, which dipped low in a wide curve across her collarbone and fit snuggly against her modest curves. The design was simple, yet very different from that of the current fashions at court. The lines were flowing and loose, allowing for the illusion of a seamless length of cloth created specifically for her form and hers alone, and contrasted strongly with the close cut, frilled and sharp lines of other ladies' dresses.  
  
But he had little time to think on the cut of the gown; he was much more interested in the fact that this reflection seemed to be matching all of his movements. He moved to the left and right, twisted this way and that, and watched as the young woman copied all his movements exactly. But when he glanced down at himself, all he saw were his own clothes, and when he ran his free hand down his front, he felt his vest and coat, not a soft pink dress.  
  
He watched through the reflection as Alfred moved behind him, mirrored strangely with the woman in the window. “It's a glamourie,” Alfred murmured, expression such that Arthur could tell that the fae was enormously pleased with himself.  
  
“You turned me into a girl?” Arthur squeaked, turning to look at Alfred directly.  
  
The fae laughed. “No, you're still you,” he said, running a finger down Arthur's nose. “Everyone else, though, will see a pretty young woman in a fetching pink dress.”  
  
He twirled Arthur again and the Englishman saw in the window's reflection as the woman's dress, his dress he supposed, spun about slim legs, falling gracefully back down as the spin slowed and Arthur was left admiring the magic Alfred contained, seemingly at his fingertips. He smiled a quick genuine smile, then frowned sharply as a thought occurred to him.  
  
“Why am I the girl?” Arthur asked as Alfred pulled open one side of his jacket and reached inside with his other hand. He pulled out a pair of glasses for himself and placed them on his nose, adjusting them once before grinning down at him.  
  
“Because we would certainly cause quite a stir otherwise,” Alfred said, wrapping an arm around Arthur's waist and spinning him into the circle of dancers. “What would your family think if they saw you dancing with the most beautiful woman in the room, hmm?”   
  
Arthur chose to concentrate on his steps rather than comment on the arrogance of that particular statement, because if he didn't focus he would likely forget that he was playing the woman in this dance. He broke away from Alfred when the dance called for it, switching places briefly with another woman who blushed and giggled when Alfred spun her back. When Arthur returned, Alfred continued.  
  
“This way, we are two complete strangers to everyone here,” he explained, leading Arthur around with a hand on his waist.  
  
Arthur had to admit the fae had a point. He certainly wouldn't relish explaining the commotion they would likely cause if Arthur were to begin spinning a richly dressed and stunningly exotic woman around the dance floor _(because heaven knows, Alfred was likely incapable of doing anything halfway)_. The young noble had done his best over the years to keep as far out of the social spotlight as he could, and he was rather glad that he could avoid what would surely be an explosive entrance into the gossip machine that was the court ladies' abundance of free time.   
  
The dancers broke apart from the organized formation the song had demanded as a new one began and Alfred happily swung Arthur around the room for the duration of the new song, twirling him during flares in rhythm and pulling him close during the lulls. Despite Alfred's previous explanation, the two did cause a bit of a stir. The cut of Arthur's illusionary dress was catching the eyes of many of the ladies and while his movements were at times stiff and hesitant, unfamiliar with playing the female part of any dance, he did well enough to impress most of the room.  
  
As Alfred slowed them to a flourished finish, Arthur was very aware of all the eyes that were on them. And although he tried to tell himself that all they saw was an unfamiliar young woman being spun around by a startlingly handsome man, he couldn't help but worry that someone would see through Alfred's magic and call them out. He couldn't even be properly jealous over the women who were clearly eyeing Alfred's form. The rest of the dancers had stopped with them, and they straightened and applauded gently. Some couples moved off the dance floor, others stayed and lined up for the next dance. Arthur was pleased when Alfred led him to the side of the room and was wondering when the fae would drop the illusion when a familiar deep voice caught his attention.   
  
“Quite a way to make an entrance, sir, but I don't believe we've met.”  
  
Arthur watched as Alfred turned his smile on the newcomer and spun slowly around, forcing what he hoped was a friendly, I-totally-don't-know-you-and-am-definitely-not-your-son-in-a-dress smile at Lord Kirkland. His father ran a curious eye over Arthur's face before Alfred gained his attention by holding out his hand.  
  
“Alfred Jones,” the fae said, voice curving in a slight accent that Arthur hadn't ever heard before. “It's a pleasure to meet you, sir.”  
  
Lord Kirkland grasped his hand and shook it firmly, smirking. “Dorian Kirkland,” he said. “I don't recall ever meeting a Jones. Are you visiting from abroad?”   
  
Alfred reclaimed his hand, used it to adjust his glasses slightly, and nodded. “Yes, from across the ocean, in fact.”  
  
“From the New World?” Lord Kirkland asked, eyes wide.  
  
Alfred nodded. “We've been enjoying our time in England very much and were very excited when your son Arthur invited us to your country home for All Hallows Eve. Unfortunately, we were unable to make it.”  
  
Lord Kirkland nodded with a wry smile. “It was great fun, but my son was unfortunately absent for much of the night, heaven knows where. Perhaps you can speak with him tonight, although he seems to have vanished once again.”  
  
“If luck is with us,” Alfred agreed.  
  
“I must say,” Lord Kirkland continued with his eyes slightly narrowed. “I was unaware that my son had connections to the New World. How did you meet?”  
  
Arthur paled, but Alfred merely chuckled. “That I owe to my sister,” he said, gesturing to Arthur. “Isabel met him a few months back at...” he trailed off, turning to regard Arthur. “Where was it, again?”  
  
Arthur's mind raced for a spot in the city where he might have run into a noblewoman visiting from the New World, specifically a place his father didn't frequent. Both men were looking at him and he swallowed before smiling slightly.  
  
“I met him at the library,” Arthur said, surprised when his voice came out soft and feminine. He glanced at Alfred, but he didn't seem to be putting any sort of effort into expanding the illusion to include Arthur's voice.  
  
Lord Kirkland let out a gruff snort and nodded roughly. “Aye, that makes sense. That boy spends more time with his nose in a book than anyone I've ever met.”  
  
Arthur would've liked to argue that, because his aunt Martha was much worse than he, but since he was currently Isabel Jones and not Arthur Kirkland, he couldn't do much other than nod in agreement. Arthur briefly wondered if Alfred even had a sister.  
  
“Well, it was a pleasure to meet you,” Lord Kirkland said. “I'm very interested in speaking to you of the New World, and I encourage you to stay at our manor as long as you would like.”  
  
“Thank you,” Alfred said. “Unfortunately, my sister is leaving for the city, and then home, on the morrow. But I would be happy to stay and speak with you and your son.”  
  
Lord Kirkland nodded once, a smile gracing his features. He turned and for the first time addressed Arthur, or rather Isabel, directly. “I hope that you find my son before you leave, you two seem much alike and I am sure he would be sad if he missed you before your departure.”  
  
Arthur bowed his head in a motion he'd seen his cousin do countless times in deference to his father and other noblemen. He felt Alfred's fingers brush the small of his back as he straightened, his cheeks heating in a mixture of embarrassment and nervousness. His father took it the wrong way and gave 'Lady Jones' an indulgent smile.  
  
“Please enjoy yourselves, Mr. Jones, Ms. Jones,” Lord Kirkland said, nodding before he departed.  
  
Now left alone, Arthur had the freedom to turn and punch Alfred in the arm. Alfred cringed away, hand coming up to rub his arm as he gave Arthur an affronted look that didn't quite cover up the obvious amusement sparking in his eyes. “Ow!” he said, trailing off into a chuckle.  
  
“You utter prat!” Arthur growled lowly, still in that soft, feminine voice. It threw him off for a moment and Alfred took the opportunity to move them further off the dance floor and toward one of the more vacant hallways, the laughter and music fading the further they got from the dance hall.  
  
“Why the bloody hell did you tell my _father_ that you knew me!” he asked. “And that you have a sister who won't ever be seen again.”  
  
“I do actually have a sister,” Alfred argued with a smile as they slowed to a stop.  
  
“And does she look anything like this?” Arthur asked, stepping back and gesturing to himself.  
  
Alfred laughed as he waved his hand in a motion that was likely meant to disperse the illusion. “Not at all, actually.”  
  
“So we're back at square one,” Arthur huffed.  
  
“Relax,” Alfred said. “I doubt anyone will remember you come morning; you only spoke to one person.”  
  
“My _father_ ,” Arthur argued, stepping closer.  
  
Alfred grabbed the Englishman's hands and used them to bring him closer still. “Who has probably met and spoken with hundreds of people tonight. Don't worry about it.”  
  
Arthur exhaled harshly and glanced away for a moment, admitting to himself that he was probably worrying over nothing. Alfred was probably right and Arthur was just worrying because it had been his father, someone he knew intimately. He let himself be calmed as Alfred bent and kissed his cheek, turning his head and smiling slightly when Alfred trailed his lips up to his forehead.   
  
“Now,” Alfred murmured. “Whaddya say we do something a little more interesting?” he asked in that same accent he'd used with Arthur's father.  
  
The Englishman blushed a little, then scowled at himself for doing it.  
  
“I'll take that as a yes,” Alfred said through his laughter.

**Author's Note:**

> *A little Harry Dresden philosophy for you.


End file.
